


The Captain and her Shadow

by Aenqa



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Drama, Dream Smp, Duckling Dream, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28552707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenqa/pseuds/Aenqa
Summary: Puffy never did figure out where he came from. All she knew was that one day, she had a shadow.And one day, her shadow disappeared.
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Clay | Dream, Cara | CaptainPuffy/Niki | Nihachu
Comments: 71
Kudos: 1057





	The Captain and her Shadow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rainbow_Transform](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Transform/gifts).



> A gift for the biggest Puffy & Dream enthusiast I know. Happy birthday, Rain! 😊
> 
> This story takes place within the Dream SMP universe (hence the inclusion of Niki & Puffy's canon relationship ❤️)

Puffy never did figure out where he came from. All she knew was that one day, she had a shadow.

It was subtle at first – there would be an extra pair of footsteps echoing her own as she walked around town, a twin shadow coming up behind her only to flit away the instant she turned around. Somehow, it never scared her. She could tell she was being followed, but she didn’t have that instinctual prickling at the back of her neck that told her to be afraid. She was mostly… curious.

Finally, she devised a solution. She waited until evening, when the streets of the village were very quiet, and she went for a walk. Sure enough, there were the footsteps pattering behind her. She listened closely. They were fast and light. A child’s, maybe.

Puffy walked carefully to the outside of town, where the buildings were sparse. She stood at the edge of the village’s path, looking out over the prairie, next to the great oak tree with branches spidering across the sky as the crickets chirped happily from the grass. She waited for the footsteps to approach. Then she spun around on her heel.

She was right. It was a child – a young boy, maybe ten or eleven years old, with messy blonde hair and wide green eyes, frozen still in front of her. They watched each other, for a long moment.

“Hello,” Puffy said.

He bolted.

But he came back.

Puffy could always tell when he was there. It eventually became something of a sixth sense. She no longer needed to hear his footsteps or catch a glimpse of a kid ducking around a corner. She could tell when her shadow was behind her, following her through town as she went to the market, or sometimes even perched outside her window as she went about her business in her house.

She had no idea who he was. To her knowledge, there was no such boy living in her little town. He was like a ghost, almost; he appeared and disappeared at random, and nobody other than Puffy seemed to have seen him.

She started trying other tactics to lure him out a little more. She would bring treats with her on her evening walks, sweets and desserts to try and tempt him a little closer. Mostly, she just wanted to talk to him – to ask him why he liked to follow her around so much – and to make sure he was okay.

Slowly but surely, it started to work. He would come up to her, when nobody else was around, and sit beside her, munching on whatever she had brought for him to eat. He wore dark, simple clothing – often, a dark green jacket that was a little too big for him and bunched up around his thin shoulders.

“What’s your name?” Puffy asked him one night, after she felt sure he wouldn’t run if she spoke.

The kid glanced at her, but didn’t answer.

“I’m Puffy,” she said, leaning back on her hands. They were sitting cross-legged in the soft grass under the oak tree. “Captain Puffy, technically, but you can call me Puffy.”

This seemed to get his attention. “Captain?” he asked – the first time she heard him speak.

“I protect the village,” she said proudly, tilting her head back towards the collection of houses she called home. “Keep ‘em safe from troublemakers. You’re not a troublemaker, are you?”

He seemed offended. _“No.”_

She laughed. “I’m just messing with ya, kid.”

He grinned sheepishly and looked down.

“You don’t have to tell me your name,” Puffy said. “But I’d like to know why you’re following me around everywhere like a little duckling.”

He shrugged. “You seem nice.”

“Plenty of nice people around here.”

“Yeah, but,” he hesitated, “you’re special.”

Puffy scrunched up her face, which made him giggle. “Why?”

He shrugged again. “Dunno.”

Puffy evaluated him. He seemed tough, as tough as a kid could be.

“You have somewhere to stay, though, right?” she asked, and her heart sunk as she watched him shrink. “You got a home?”

He looked down. “I take care of myself.”

Ouch. Puffy wanted to have the right words for that, but she didn’t. She watched as he finished the muffin she had brought him from Niki’s bakery and got to his feet. “Hey, kid,” she said, before he could scamper away. “You ever need help or anything, you can just ask me. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said, almost shyly. “Thanks.”

Almost before she could blink, he was gone.

“He’s like a feral child,” Puffy told Niki the next day, leaning on her elbows on the front counter of the bakery as Niki took bread out of the oven. Niki looked as lovely as ever, her hair tied back in a braid, her apron cinched around her waist, and she pursed her lips as she set the bread out to cool.

“I’ve seen plenty of children like that before,” Niki said. “But they tend to be a little more…”

“Criminal?” Puffy suggested dryly.

“I was going to say _mischievous,”_ Niki said with a raised eyebrow.

Puffy shrugged, resting her chin on her hand as she watched Niki work. “He doesn’t _seem_ mischievous. Maybe I’m misreading him.”

“If he is a… feral child, like you say,” Niki said, “maybe he’s looking for… you know… a parent.”

Puffy hummed. She wasn’t exactly trying to be a mom – but it’s not like the kid had asked her to be. He just liked to hang out with her, she guessed. “You’re saying the duckling has imprinted.”

Niki shot her a look. “Duckling?”

“Don’t know his name,” Puffy said with a shrug. “Follows me like a duckling. Hence… _duckling.”_ She spread her hands, as though anticipating applause.

“I guess it’s better than nothing,” Niki said doubtfully. She walked over to where Puffy was standing and clapped her hands in her direction, sending a light dusting of flour over her head. “Now, are you going to stand there and scare away my customers all day or are you going to be useful?”

“Jeez, okay, I get it,” Puffy grumbled, trying her best not to blush.

Duckling made a few more appearances over the next few weeks, though he wasn’t always around. Puffy found herself wondering what he was getting up to when he wasn’t in town. Was he living out in the wilderness? Did he have people to look out for him?

The next time she talked to him, he was waiting for her near their little meetup spot by the tree at the edge of the village, sitting cross-legged underneath it. He brightened up when he saw her, and she couldn’t help but grin as well.

“What’s up, Duckling,” she said, and reached out to ruffle his hair. He pulled away, squinting at her.

“Duckling?” he said.

“That’s your name, right?”

“No,” he said sullenly.

“Oh, yeah, I wouldn’t know cause you won’t tell me,” Puffy said lightly, sitting down next to him with a huff. She handed him the large basket she had brought with her, overflowing with items, which he took with a surprised expression.

“Wow,” the kid said. “Um.”

“Yeah, yeah, I may have went a bit overboard,” Puffy said, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I – I dunno, I want to make sure you have the stuff you need. I thought you could take it back with you, to… wherever it is you live.”

It was full of food, seeds to be planted, a few basic tools and some materials to make a tent. Duckling parsed through it with wide eyes.

“You like it?” Puffy asked.

He blinked at her. “Thanks, Puffy,” he said quietly.

A slow smile overtook her face. “Yeah, yeah, no problem, Duckling,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “Anytime, alright?”

He nodded and stood up, hefting the heavy basket at his side. Then he paused.

“Do you have to call me _Duckling_?” he asked with a little grimace.

She raised her eyebrows at him. “You gonna tell me your name?”

He hesitated, but ultimately shook his head.

“Then get used to it, Duckling.” 

This was how things went for months, and then, quite by accident, years: Puffy and Duckling, the Captain and her shadow. As the kid grew older and braver, he’d follow her around out in the open, trailing along at her side as she went along her patrols or helping her in her house or in Niki’s bakery. He was mostly quiet, very respectful; accepted Puffy’s many gifts with gratitude, and sometimes brought her something in exchange.

Puffy cared about him, worried about him, constantly asked after him to make sure he was doing okay. She felt a sort of responsibility for him, even though she knew she wasn’t his mother – even though she barely knew anything about him. Puffy protected her people, and she counted Duckling firmly among her people.

Or at least she did – until he disappeared.

“Did he say anything about where he was going?” Niki asked her when Puffy showed up on her doorstep one night, distraught. She brought Puffy inside, sat her on the couch, and put on a pot of tea right away. _Classic Niki_.

“He didn’t say anything,” Puffy said, wiping her eyes. “But – he – we meet at our meeting spot at least once a week, and he’s missed two weeks in a row, Niki. He’s never missed before.”

“And did he seem okay, the last time you saw him?” Niki asked, rubbing Puffy’s back.

“I guess he has seemed a little distant,” Puffy sniffled. “Distracted, maybe.” The last time she had seen him, she thought, he had seemed almost sad – and he had given her a hug, which the reserved boy almost never did. “Oh, god. What if something terrible happened to him?”

“You said it yourself,” Niki said softly. “That kid is very strong. He’s been living out on his own, all these years. Surely he can take care of himself.”

Puffy hesitated and nodded. It was true – even so young, her Duckling could clearly take care of himself; she had seen for herself the speed with which he could move, the quick capacity with which he took down mobs and pillagers who threatened Puffy’s village. She had been planning on recruiting him, when he got a little older. She had been planning on building him a little house, near hers, if he wanted. And now –

“Why would he just leave? Without saying anything?” Puffy said, looking down at the long-cooled mug of tea in her hands.

Niki rested her head against Puffy’s shoulder, and Puffy leaned into her gratefully. “Maybe he just didn’t want to say goodbye.”

It was many more years before Puffy saw her Duckling again, though she thought about him often. And it happened, like many things in life, by pure and perfect coincidence.

For years, Puffy and Niki had talked about their plans to someday leave their little village and stake their claim somewhere newer and more exciting. It was a dream to get Puffy through long days and sleepless nights – a distant fantasy. But suddenly, Niki talked about it as though it could actually happen.

“I got a letter from Wilbur today,” she brought up casually over dinner, and Puffy looked at her sharply.

“Wilbur, huh?” Puffy was… _not_ Wilbur’s biggest fan. If only because of the history between him and Niki. Long dead and done, by Niki’s clear and forceful word. But still. Puffy didn’t have to like him.

“He’s living somewhere new,” Niki said, tactfully ignoring Puffy’s unfounded jealousy. “He’s starting a new nation, like he always talked about. And he wants us to come join.”

Puffy hummed, pushing her food around her plate. “Does he want _us_ to come with him, or does he just want _you?”_

Niki sighed and looked at Puffy plainly. “He asked for me,” she said honestly. “But he knows we’re a package deal.”

Puffy bit the inside of her lip, holding her gaze. “How could I refuse _that_ offer.”

Niki reached over the table to grab Puffy’s hand. “Cara,” she said, and god _damn_ her for that. She always knew how to melt Puffy right down. “We’ve been talking about doing something like this for years. This village – it’s not big enough for us, anymore.”

“I like our life here,” Puffy said.

“I do too, of _course_ I do,” Niki said. “But we’re not going to be young forever. If we don’t try something like this soon…”

“We never will,” Puffy said, looking down.

“Exactly,” Niki said. She moved her hand away and pushed back from the table, picking up her empty plate. “Just… think about it, please? For me.”

“No,” Puffy said, standing, and before Niki could take that the wrong way, she said quickly: “I mean – I don’t have to think about it. You’re right. I – we have wanted to do this for years, and if you think Wilbur is for real, then… then I’m with you. Okay? Let’s do this.”

The look of pure joy on Niki’s face made it immediately worth it. “Oh, thank you, Puffy, thank you,” she cried in excitement, and she threw her arms around Puffy, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

They packed up their belongings and were on the road within a week. But before they left, Puffy took one last trip to the oak tree at the edge of town. She left a note there, just in case the kid ever came back. Just in case he couldn’t find her. The note read:

_Puffy and Niki went to L’Manburg. Come follow us if you want, Duckling._

It was a long journey to their new home, and by the time the strange black and yellow walls rose over the horizon, stark and slightly bizarre against the solid blue sky, Puffy was too exhausted to feel anything other than relief. Niki double checked the coordinates Wilbur had sent and nodded in confirmation. This was L’Manburg.

Wilbur was at the gates to meet them. He gave Niki a big hug, and then shook Puffy’s hand. She met his gaze directly, shook hard and refused to be the first to let go. (Display of dominance. Niki rolled her eyes behind Wilbur’s back.)

They were introduced, in quick order, to their new neighbors: Tubbo, who Puffy immediately took a liking to; Fundy, who was, apparently, Wilbur’s son; and Tommy, a loud-mouthed, animated kid who took them on the grand tour, talking at a mile a minute.

“We fought for our independence a few months ago,” Tommy said grandly, puffing himself up as he took them on a walk around the outer limits of the walls. “Great big battle, too. I did most of the heavy lifting, but the other guys made their appearances.”

“Who were you fighting?” Puffy asked, crossing her arms.

“Oh, that would be Dream,” Tommy said, his expression souring. “Big ugly bastard, wears a mask? Ever heard of him?”

“How do you know he’s ugly if he wears a mask?” Puffy asked wryly, which made Tommy splutter.

“Wilbur told me about him,” Niki murmured to Puffy while Tommy searched for a comeback. “He controlled the land, before they became independent. He’s supposed to be very scary.”

“You can tell that he’s ugly because of the way that he is,” Tommy burst out belatedly, and, looking very proud of himself, exclaimed: “come on, then! Enough about him.”

L’Manburg really wasn’t that big, all things considered, but it was already ten times as exciting as their old village had been in a number of years. Tommy, at the least, was very entertaining, and a great candidate for banter. Niki had to actually pull Puffy away with arguing with him about the best ways to kill a creeper in order to get their things sorted out.

There weren’t many rules at all in L’Manburg, but, as Puffy was told about a hundred different times, “stay away from Dream.”

“He’s bad news,” Wilbur said, shaking his head solemnly. “A real tyrant.”

“What did he do that was so bad?” Puffy asked.

“It’s a long story.”

“Try me.”

“Well, it basically has to do with the fact that Tommy and I were trying to sell drugs,” Wilbur hesitated. “I mean, it’s more complicated than that.”

Puffy raised an eyebrow.

“We were just trying to create supply and demand,” Tommy supplemented helpfully, and Wilbur nodded. “So that’s really the only reason we stole anything in the first place.”

Puffy laughed in disbelief. “Stealing? So – wait. You were stealing from people so you could start an illegal drug trade?”

“If you want to know the story, you can go read the history books in the library,” Wilbur said brusquely. “We can’t be expected to – to – conjure the story at a drop of a hat.”

Puffy was hardly convinced.

Not that it mattered that much, in the end, how L’Manburg was started. Again: it was interesting. After they got settled, Niki went straight into rebuilding her bakery, but larger, while Puffy took some time to explore the little country. There were buildings beyond L’Manburg’s walls, that much was obvious. And it wasn’t long before she was venturing out onto the wooden path that connected L’Manburg to the rest of the neighboring land.

When Wilbur caught her walking through the gates, he warned her: “I won’t be able to protect you past this point.”

That got a good laugh out of Puffy. “I think I’ll be able to take care of myself.”

There were even more people in the greater area, many of whom were friendly, if a little surprised to see a new face. And then there were Tommy and Tubbo, who, despite being L’Manburg citizens, seemed to simply be ubiquitous to the land. Wherever she was, there they were as well. And there they were, getting into trouble.

It was about a week into their stay in L’Manburg when Puffy was strolling down the path, only to be nearly bowled over by Tommy, who was sprinting and panicked, and practically screamed into her ear: “Puffy he’s gonna fuckin’ kill us oh my god he’s gonna eat us alive!!!”

“Calm the heck down, Tommy,” Puffy shouted, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Who’s the cannibal?”

“Dream,” Tommy panted, as Tubbo scrambled up behind him. He pointed wildly, and Puffy saw him, stalking down the path, his friend Sapnap in tow.

Dream was a good head taller than her, and just like the L’Manburgians had described, he was wearing a strange mask with a smiley face printed on it, obscuring his face. She could see patches of blonde hair sticking up around it, and he wore a green hunter’s jacket, that – that seemed familiar. And he was shouting: _“Tommy!_ Get the _fuck_ back here!”

For all Puffy didn’t believe Wilbur’s tall tales, she had heard enough horror stories about Dream to feel an appropriate stab of fear in her chest at his appearance. And for what little she knew about the politics of this place, she was a L’Manburg citizen, and, for better or worse, so was Tommy. So she stepped in front of the kid and put one hand up in the air, placing the other on her sword, as the force of nature stormed up the path in her direction.

“Woah, woah, woah,” she said. “Hold up. Let’s talk about this.”

Dream looked straight towards her and growled, “who are -,”

And he froze.

Puffy cleared her throat and held her ground. “I know you don’t know me,” she said. “My name is -,”

“Puffy?” Dream said softly.

Puffy pulled up short. “You’ve… heard of me?”

But something was starting to click in her head. A puzzle that was so unfathomable she wouldn’t have thought to piece it together in her head until that exact moment. The jacket. The hair, the – the _voice,_ although it was different, deeper, smoother than the last time she had – heard it. The last time she had –

“Puffy,” Dream said again, astonished.

 _“Duckling?”_ she exclaimed.

Immediately, Tommy was turning to look at her, aghast: “Duckling? What the _fuck_?” while Sapnap was rounding on Dream, saying, “ _this_ is Puffy?”

But the two of them were just staring at each other, mouths hanging open.

“What are you doing here?” Dream finally managed.

“Wh -,” Puffy’s mind spun, and she shook her head. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“This is my home,” Dream said, extending an arm in a gesture. “I, uh -,”

He didn’t get out another word before Puffy was suddenly swatting him over the head, her hand knocking against the top of his mask. Dream let out a little yelp, and Puffy shouted, “I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD! You disappeared on me like a – like – like a freakin’ ghost! You ghosted me! What the hell, kid?”

Tommy and Tubbo were now, thoroughly, shell-shocked. They stared at Puffy with pale faces and wide eyes as she continued berating Dream. “What the hell gave you that idea?”

Dream held up his hands in meager defense, though there was a grin spreading across his face. “Puffy, Puffy, I – I’m sorry, okay, I just… didn’t want you to be worried about me.”

“And you thought disappearing without a trace was a surefire way not to worry me?” Puffy said in exasperation, crossing her arms. “I thought you were smart, Duckling, come on.”

“It’s, uh,” Dream shot a glance at Sapnap, whose eyebrows were raised in disbelief, “it’s Dream, Puffy. My name is Dream.”

And for some reason, that was what finally made Puffy stop, finally made her realize the miracle that had actually just happened.

“Dream,” she said out loud. She felt a smile spread across her face that was mirrored on Dream’s.

And then, just like that, they were hugging, disbelieving laughter spilling from Puffy’s mouth, as the rest of the SMP watched on in utter bewilderment.

As usual, Dream didn’t explain all that much. He didn’t explain why he had come here or what he was doing. He didn’t try to explain what had happened with L’Manburg. He just smiled and gave short replies and never took off that strange little mask he apparently liked.

Puffy couldn’t help but feel like he hadn’t really changed, even though he clearly very much had. He was several years older (which tends to happen when you don’t see someone for several years) – and there was something darker about him, now. He had clearly been through a lot. In her head, she was struggling to reconcile Duckling - the quiet, kind boy she had known in her village - with the stories she had heard of Dream: an all-powerful, and power-hungry, dictator. But in her heart, she knew that she trusted her kid more than she trusted Tommy's stories about him. Whatever he had done, there must have been a reason for it. 

Dream walked back with her to L’Manburg, then left her at the gates.

“Even though you’re living in L’Manburg,” he said, “you should know you’re – you’re always welcome, anywhere on my land. Okay?”

“Okay,” Puffy said, and got up on her tiptoes to try and ruffle Dream’s hair, which he ducked away from with another grin. “Thanks, kid.”

Niki was astonished, and Wilbur was confused, and Tommy and Tubbo were running around telling the amazing tale of Puffy, who managed to scare the man who scared everybody else, and Puffy didn’t care. She was just _happy,_ happy in a way she hadn’t been in a long time. She was living with her love in a new place with good people, and she had found her Duckling.

Time passed. It was summer, and the days were sunny, the nights warm. Puffy knew that there were conflicts going on in L’Manburg, that there was tension and political infighting, but it was none of her business. She spent her days building a flower shop next to Niki’s bakery, strolling with her through the fields of L’Manburg, and taking private walks through Dream’s land, waving hello to her friends.

One night, as she walked down the wooden path, she felt that tingling at her spine again – that old sixth sense, awakening from its slumber. Happiness rose light and airy in her chest. She had a shadow.

He had improved his tactics. This time, there were no footsteps – there was hardly a breath of air out of place. She caught sight of him a few times, crouched on top of buildings or slipping behind trees. It would have been creepy, if it were anyone other than Dream. As it was, she just laughed to herself, and walked out to the edge of town.

There was a drop-off, just past the curve of the wooden path; a cliff overlooking a forest. The sun was starting to set behind her, and to the east, the horizon was dark and sprinkled faintly with stars. Puffy arranged herself on the top of the cliff, her legs hanging down over the rocks, and she waited.

Eventually: footsteps. A pause, over her shoulder.

“I don’t have any treats for you,” she said, and heard Dream chuckle. “My company will have to be enough of a reward.”

He sat down next to her, his legs dangling long over the edge of the drop-off. “It is,” he said.

Puffy glanced at him. “You know,” she said, “I’m not one to judge anyone else’s fashion choices, but the mask is just a _little_ off-putting. It would be nice to see your face.”

Dream hesitated for a moment, then glanced around to make sure they were alone before he reached up and unfastened the band holding his mask to his head. He dropped it to his lap. His gaze flickered uncertainly to Puffy, then away.

And Puffy realized just how old he had gotten. He must be at least twenty, now, and it showed in the line of his jaw, the dark circles under his eyes. There was a scar she didn’t recognize spanning the bridge of his nose. He looked tired, she realized, with a melancholy sink in her chest. He looked like he was carrying something heavy on his shoulders.

“How have you been, Duckling?” she asked softly, and saw his head dip.

“What do you mean?” he asked, turning his mask over in his hands.

She shrugged slowly. “Have you been happy?”

There was a long pause, which spoke for itself. “Things have been… complicated,” Dream finally said, tilting his head.

Puffy thought about the war stories, the images in her head of explosions wrecking the land, arrows raining down from above. She suppressed a shiver. “Sounds like it.”

Dream seemed to choose his words carefully. “When I came here… I wanted it to be a safe place,” he said. “And it was, for a while. But things have changed. There’s so much conflict, now, and – and I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.” He laughed shortly. “All I want is for everyone to get along, but I - I can’t help but feel like everyone here hates me.”

It was probably the most she had ever heard him speak at once. She hummed and nodded her head in understanding, and they stared out over the forest together, the quiet sounds of the evening filling their ears.

“ _I_ don’t hate you,” Puffy finally said.

Dream scoffed. “Puffy – you don’t even know me.”

“Oh, give me a break,” she said, giving him a look. “I know you better than probably anyone else here. I know who you _really_ are, not this…” she waved her hand up and down, “weird, masked, demi-god persona you’ve created for yourself.”

A wry smile twisted itself onto Dream’s lips. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right, kid, I’m always right,” Puffy said in a sigh, which got a chuckle out of him. Then she reached up and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. For once, he didn’t pull away. “Look, Dream. I’m not gonna pretend to understand everything that’s been going on. I know I’m a part of L’Manburg, and we might not - technically - be on the same team. But I’m always gonna be on your side. Okay?”

Dream nodded, his gaze flickering up to meet Puffy’s briefly. “The same goes for you,” he said quietly, and Puffy could feel the weight in the words. “If you need me, I’ll be there.”

Puffy tilted her head. “Why do I feel like I’ve just made a very powerful friend?”

Dream laughed as he refastened his mask and pulled himself to his feet. “You've always had one.” Once he was standing, he paused, and then he placed his hand gently on the top of Puffy’s head.

“You were there for me when literally nobody else was, Puffy,” he said. “I won’t forget that.”

And then, like he always did, Dream disappeared.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://aenqa.tumblr.com) / [twitter](https://twitter.com/aenqa1)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [can you hear me? i'm not coming home.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28794198) by [catgenderclover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catgenderclover/pseuds/catgenderclover)




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